


Velveteen Happiness

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: The Velveteen Synth [1]
Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Androids, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, No Spoilers, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George's care is his primary purpose. George's care means George's happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velveteen Happiness

"Do you remember," George says after dinner, when Odi has finished cleaning the kitchen and returned to sit properly on the couch, "The summer we drove down to Newquay?"

George often asks him to remember for him. He has an album open in his lap, pictures of the sand and sun and sea. "Yes, George. You and Mary and I. We took the paths down the cliffs to the ocean when the tide was out. Mary requested fresh shellfish. A retired local fisherman showed us how to wade in the tide pools and pull muscles off the rocks. Mary slipped and fell in the tide pools. She pulled you in when you tried to help her. Then you did the same thing to me. You told me to laugh with you."

Odi watches George's smile grow as he recounts the day. He registers his tale as a success, and stores the data as such. It will help him to fulfill his duties more efficiently. George's care is his primary purpose. George's care means George's happiness.

He understands the concept of happiness more now than when he was first activated. He has many, many years of data compiled. In the beginning it was merely defined as a positive human emotion. If his primary or secondary owner said they were happy, he was to register his actions as a success. He was programmed to register their facial expressions, their vitals. The tone and inflection in their voice. Once enough data had been gathered on an individual he could register their happiness without the need for verbal affirmation from them. He could detect signs of no happiness and take steps to rectify the situation.

"Would you like me to tell you of the next day in Newquay, George?"

But George shakes his head and closes the book. "Help me to bed, please, Odi."

George still has not regained 100% of the strength in the left side of his body. A result of the stroke. He leans heavily on Odi as they climb the stairs together. He waits patiently inside the bedroom as George changes. It makes George happy to be able to manage things on his own. But Odi must be ready to assist if required.

Normally George dismisses him when he is ready for bed. Tonight, however, he sits on the side of the bed with his slippers still on, looking at Odi where he stands by the door. Odi analyzes the tension in George's 43 individual facial muscles. He does not frown, but this particular lack of tension has been more and more common since Mary's death. It does not mean happiness.

"Would you like me to recount more about Newquay, George?" he asks, because it is the most recent thing that has given George happiness.

"Sit," George says simply, motioning to the other side of the bed. Odi sits, turning to face him, and watches George as he lifts a hand to touch the side of his face. His sensory receptors register a gentle pressure. He recognizes the gesture as one George had often given to Mary, in happy moments. But there is no sign of happiness now.

George sighs and drops his hand. "What is your charge level?"

"Twelve percent."

"Mm." George nods and turns away, setting his glasses down on the bedside table and turning off the lamp, laying down. "Go charge, Odi. Goodnight."

Odi registers George's unhappiness, and stores the data as such.

~~

The next night he recounts to George the fall day they spent walking on the banks of the Thames, watching the brightly colored autumn leaves fall and crunching them underfoot. He recounts how George purchased a brown paper bag full of freshly roasted chestnuts, how he and Mary eat them despite Odi's observation that their temperature is above that of recommended. How he and Mary blow on the hot nut flesh and suck on burnt fingertips, laughing as they do.

"What is your charge level?" George asks again at bedtime, his hand exerting gentle pressure against the side of Odi's face.

"Fourteen percent."

"Mm," George says again, and turns out the lamp, laying down. "Go charge, Odi. Goodnight."

Odi registers George's unhappiness, and stores the data as such.

~~

There are many variables in George's life that Odi cannot effect, though he takes as many actions as possible to mitigate negative results. George's bones ache when the weather turns cold, so Odi keeps careful track of upcoming weather patterns and adjusts the temperature in the house when possible. He keeps George's electric blanket neatly folded near his works station. He pre-warms George's plate before placing his food on it, just enough to soothe the joints in his fingers when he holds it.

"My charge is sixty-three percent," he tells George that night, as George is changing into his night clothes. For a moment George stops. Then he pulls his nightshirt down into place, and his eyebrows knit together as he slowly crosses the room to look at him.

"I didn't ask about your charge."

"You have asked about my charge for seven consecutive evenings, George."

"And it's always been low. You charged recently."

"My less than satisfactory charge did not please you."

"I never said that." George lifts a hand to touch the side of his face again, as he has before, and though his lips turn upwards into a smile Odi recognizes signs of unhappiness as well. His programming jitters between registering his action as a success or failure.

"This does not please you," he states, but George shakes his head.

"It pleases me," George says softly, and he lifts his other hand to join the first, cradling Odi's head with soft pressure. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to Odi's forehead.

It is not a behavior Odi has observed before.

"I would like it," George says, much quieter than normal, "if you would lay down with me until I fall asleep."

"George, my adult programming has not been activated."

George jerks back even as he's still saying the words, distress clear in his expression. "No! God, no. No. And it never will be." He crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed, turning out the lamp before laying down. "Go charge, Odi. Goodnight."

Odi registers George's unhappiness, and stores the data as such. His programming analyzes the two most recent commands he has been given. The second should override the first. But the second command has not made George happy on any previous nights. It is a failure. And he has no requirement to charge.

He crosses the room to sit on the other side of the bed as he has every night. His optical sensors can easily register George's position in the dark. He places his hand over George's with just enough pressure to be considered comforting. "George. May I lay down with you until you fall asleep?"

For a long moment George doesn't respond. Then he pulls his hand from under Odi's and pushes the blanket back, holding one arm out. It's an easily interpreted motion, and Odi fits himself into the space at George's side.

What he does not anticipate is feeling George's arm wrap around him and pull him closer, tucking Odi's head under his chin, against his chest. He feels George's fingers smooth through his hair, stroking slowly, again and again. He can hear George's heartbeat calm, his breathing deepen, and as his vitals approach sleep levels his fingers gradually stop their movement, falling to rest against the back of Odi's neck.

If he moves, George will no longer be asleep, and Odi will not have fulfilled his command. So Odi engages power saving mode and closes his eyes with George's heart beating steadily under his ear.

"You're still here," George says in the morning, voice slow and thick with sleep. Odi's primary systems return from power-saving mode and he opens his eyes to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, George. The risk of waking you if I moved was too great."

George smiles, and presses a kiss to his forehead. "That's all right."

Odi registers George's happiness, and stores the data as such.

~~

It becomes part of their routine, even after George recovers most of his strength. Odi identifies the times during the day when he is least likely to be needed and ensures that he stays charged. In return, George kisses his forehead and holds Odi against his side as he falls asleep. He repeats the motion when he wakes. Odi stores the motion as another non-verbal proof of happiness.

"Thank you," George says, one morning after getting out of bed. "I appreciate it. That you stay with me."

"I am pleased to fulfill my primary function, George," Odi replies, and registers sadness in George's expression. "Does that not please you?"

"It pleases me," George replies, and steps into him, pressing his face to his hair. "Don't worry."

Odi wants to say that he is unable to worry. But this is a human expression meant for comfort. Like the way George touches his hair. His data proves that doing so makes George happy, so he says nothing, and George is smiling softly when he pulls back.

~~ 

George keeps him carefully maintained, as he always has. Even after his stroke he'd insisted on calling in service units regularly, overseeing their work as much as possible.

He runs diagnostics and maintenance weekly, now. But Odi's programming registers the passing of days and weeks and years.

"George," he says one morning, after breakfast has been cleared away. "I must inform you that my system has past its optimum life span. A newer unit - "

"Stop," George says, and Odi registers more unhappiness in his face and his expression than he has since Mary died. "Don't talk about that."

"If you command me - "

"I do. I don't want to ever hear you speak about needing to be replaced again." And suddenly, even though he is unhappy, George's arms are around his shoulders, his face pressed to his hair. Odi's sensors register moisture with a high concentration of saline. Tears.

"I'm sorry, George."

"If you break down, I'll fix you," George says, voice low and gruff. "I designed you. I can fix you. You're never going to be replaced."

"Yes George."

Even though he's agreed, the logic in his programming know that even George's meticulous care won't be able to stop the gradual degradation of his memory banks. It's a problem he must solve on his own; George has ordered him not to speak of it. So while George's heart beats under his ear that night he quietly analyzes every piece of data in his memory banks, giving it a rank order of importance, based on George's reactions, his happiness. The most important data is carefully defragmented and duplicated in his memory banks, in case of degradation. It is a risk to the integrity of his programming, this duplication of data. In some cases it means overwriting older data with less rank importance. It will lead to glitching as his systems degrade. But if he can focus on what is most important to George, the effects will be negligible for a few years.

Eventually it may affect his ability to care for George, to perform the physical tasks needed to take care of the household. It may affect his ability to read and interpret data. But another synth could accomplish that, as much as George says he doesn't want one. What is irreplaceable is the data he's recorded of their time together, their days in the sun with Mary.

Even if his systems fail, he will still be able to lay against George's side, to listen to his heartbeat and recount the days that mean so much to him. 

~~

There is a book exchange in the back corner of the supermarket. Occasionally, when they shop, George will pause and run his fingers along the battered spines. Today he stops, pulling out a slim volume with the cover ripped off and tucking it into the basket alongside the apples.

"Would you like to talk about Mary, George?" Odi asks, after dinner is done and the kitchen is clean.

George doesn't reply, instead picking up the battered paperback from the table beside his easy chair. He turns it over in his hands. "My mother read this to me when I was a boy," he says, running his thumb along the dog-eared pages. Then he holds it out to Odi. "I would like you to read it for me please, Odi."

The request is not unusual, even though George can see quite well, his prescription recently updated. But his joints have begun to bother him again. It is easier for Odi to hold the book. 

He reads. He analyzes the book as a year three reading level, far more juvenile than George's standard choice of subject matter. Logically he has chosen this text for the association to his mother. Odi lets his voice soften more than he would with a non-fiction text, increases the lyrical quality a fraction of a percentage. He watches George smile.

At standard reading speed, he is nearing the end in forty-five minutes. The words mean nothing to him if not in reference to George, so he monitors George for changes in expression, vitals, response. George exhibits a quiet contentment until nearly the end. 

_"Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."_

Odi registers that George has straightened slightly in his chair, is regarding him more intently, so he slows his voice a fraction more, allows it to deepen and resonate ever so slightly.

_"It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. Once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”_

"Stop," George says softly, and Odi looks up from the book obediently.

"Do you understand what you're reading?" George asks quietly.

"Yes, George. This is The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams, first published in 1922. It - "

"No." George cuts him off, and though he doesn't seem unhappy, there is a heavy resonance in his voice that does not fit with the emotional cues Odi has learned. "Do you understand what it means?"

"I'm sorry, George. I don't understand the question."

George lets out a long breath, and Odi registers his response as a failure. But then George smiles, and stands, stroking one arm along Odi's shoulders as he takes the book from him with his other hand. He presses a kiss to Odi's hair. "It's all right, Odi."

"I have not finished the book."

"Don't worry," George replies, and his hand lingers on Odi's cheek as he pulls back. He's smiling, so Odi registers a success and smiles as well.

He reviews the last section of text as George falls asleep, trying to find similarities between it and the things that remain his memories. But he was not programmed for this kind of analysis, and he daren't waste his memory banks on long term storage of that material. Instead he replays the image of George watching him read, the smile on his face.

Odi registers George's happiness and hopes that he can make it last for always.

~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> I HAD A LOT OF FEELS ABOUT THEM, OKAY???


End file.
